


Coming Undone

by PuraVesania



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Bulges, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuraVesania/pseuds/PuraVesania
Summary: Rufioh is stressed, but Kurloz knows how to help.





	

There's only so many snide remarks your Kismesis can make before you punch him in the face, especially when you're already on edge. Of course, the big asshole of a clown knew that; that's why he did it in the first place. Rufioh had been too on edge lately, his upcoming deployment approaching too quickly. They left tomorrow night, and fuck knew how long they'd be gone. Makara knew he needed to take the edge off his anxiety. He was a good Kismesis like that. 

The Summoner was already feeling better when his fist struck the painted cheek of the Grand Highblood, coming away white and purple as the skin on his sharp cheekbone split. His grin only lasted seconds before being replaced with a grimace, Kurloz returning the blow to his gut with interest. The asshole cackled as the bronze blood launched himself at him, the two falling to the floor of his throne room in a tangle of limbs and horns. 

Rufioh took great pride in smearing his quadrantmate's meticulously applied paint, knowing the blasphemy would piss him right the hell off. And it did. Rufioh went airborne, and not in the way he normally preferred. He rolled to the side, letting his shoulder and hip take the impact instead of the delicate wings taped to his back. Grinning, he pushed himself to his feet and wiped a smear of blood from his cheek with his arm. 

"That the best you got, Makara? Gettin' soft in your old age." 

The Grand Highblood roared, a sound that could (and did) strike fear into the heart of millions. Instead, it went straight to Rufioh's bulge, and he took a minute to enjoy the sensation of it slipping from its sheath and pressing against his jeans before bracing himself for impact. Impact being 200+ pounds of high blood in the throes of Black romance. Hands clasped shoulders, each troll straining to push their Kismesis back, waiting for someone to lose an inch of ground. Kurloz may have the strength of his blood on his side, but Rufioh worked hard to maintain his physique, and they were damn near evenly matched. Except neither of them played fair. 

Just as the blackness of chucklevoodoos began to touch his conscious mind, the Summoner dropped his head and rammed the top of his skull into Kurloz's chest. It was like head butting a brick wall, but it worked. The chucklevoodoos fell away as the larger troll grunted, and his grip slacked just enough for Rufioh to twist. Grabbing his wrist, the Cavalreaper spun and pivoted, groaning in effort as he bodily lifted the Grand Highblood over his shoulder and onto the floor. The purple blood coughed and sputtered as the breath was knocked from his lungs, giving Rufioh enough time to climb astride his hips and pin those massive arms beside his head. He could feel his Kismesis' sizeable bulge straining beneath his pants, and he wiggled against it for good measure, laughing when he got a growl in return. 

"Givin' up already? You really are gettin' soft. The Grand Highblood, terror of Alternia, pinned on the floor of his own throne room by a lowly br-" 

Shit, he caught him monologuing. One strong leg hooked over his and suddenly their positions were flipped, Rufioh's head rebounding off the stone and making him hiss. His wrists were above his head, forearms pressing painfully against his long horns and effectively pinning his head down as well. Fuck, he hated when he used his own horns against him. 

"I'll show you motherfuckin' soft, Nitram." The Grand Highblood grinned in that malicious was that made fire shoot straight to the pit of his stomach. 

"Vacilitatin' on me, Makara? 'Cause if you wanna go red, I think we're gonna have a pro-OW GODS FUCK YOU!" Rookie mistake, he hadn't kept an eye on the purple blood's other hand. It had disappeared between them and sliced clean through his pants, as well as his thigh. He bared his fangs in a snarl as his Kismesis cackled, ripping away the denim in scraps. Damn it, now he was going to have to do a walk of shame back to the barracks wearing a pair of chucklefuck's polka dotted pants. And he knew it, too. 

'Bastard,' he strained against the large hand pinning his arms, only to be pushed back down so hard his horns clacked against the floor. He felt the vibrations through his skull and had to stop himself before he gave his head a shake to clear it. 

"That's a good motherfucker." Kurloz's deep voice was a rumbling purr that did horrible, wonderful things to him. "Just lay there and take it, low blood. You know you motherfuckin' love it." 

He could feel his warm bulge curling against his stomach, trailing bronze fluid across his skin. It was kind of difficult to argue when his reaction was so obviously displayed. And then there were teeth on his throat, and he openly groaned, awkwardly tilting his head back to keep Kurloz's insane mass of hair from smothering him. Each bite and lick brought a new sound from him, and he knew his throat would be a wreck come daybreak, but he couldn't find a single fuck to give. 

Kurloz's cold mouth seared his hot skin as it trailed down his body, the troll using his nose to push his vest further open. Muscles twitched beneath his lips, and the Summoner's cry echoed through the room when the Subjuggulator's teeth clamped over the peak of his hip bone. His hips bucked of their own accord and Kurloz chuckled. Rufioh struggled to look down his body, catching a glimpse of purple eyes watching him, watching his reactions. He always openly stared when they pailed, and it both unnerved and warmed him. 

"Goddamnit, Makara, quit fuckin' around!" Another snicker answered him and he was about to break out some of his best military vulgarity when a cool, wet sensation ran up his bulge from sheath to tip. "Oooh sweet fuckin' hell, yes!" 

Makara had a talented tongue and he put it to work, lapping at the Summoner's bulge like it was a bronze fucking lollipop. He let it wrap around his tongue, then pulled away to mouth at the base, only to lick his way back up to the top. He knew the fucker was grinning when he took the appendage into his mouth, scaring the hell out of Rufioh because _holy fuck those fangs are no joke_. The Cavalreaper's strangled cry only spurred his Kismesis on, and soon Rufioh completely forgot about the razorblades in way too close proximity to his bulge and lost himself in the wet, cold cavern of Kurloz's mouth. The slurping sounds coming from between his legs were obscene in the best way, Makara's tongue waging an oral war with his bulge.

All too soon he was released. The troll nearly whimpered at the loss, but despite his clear enjoyment of his Kismesis' talents, he refused to appear weak. It was one thing for your Kismesis to know they brought you to your knees, it was another to admit it. There was a rustling of cloth as the Grand Highblood pushed his pants down and off, but he didn't release the low blood's hands. Smart of him, because until Kurloz was inside him, the game was still on. Rufioh would have taken advantage and tried to overpower his partner without a second thought. 

Makara's face was back in his view, powerful thighs spreading his own. He could feel the cold tendril of the Grand Highblood's bulge caressing his groin, slowly moving south towards its goal, and he shivered with anticipation. Then he smirked, bronze meeting purple as their gazes locked. 

"You look good wearing my color, Makara." He gestured with his chin, indicating the golden brown coating the high blood's lips. Kurloz licked the genetic material away with slow, practiced ease, and Rufioh bit his lip to stifle a moan.

"And you'll look motherfuckin' wicked filled with mine." The Grand Highblood thrust his hips forward with no hesitation, and the Summoner cried out in pain and pleasure as he was filled to the brim with his Kismesis' thick, slick bulge. It undulated lazily inside of him, twisting and curling in on itself, spreading its natural lubricants and generally driving Rufioh up the damn wall. He wrapped his legs tightly around Kurloz's waist and thrust up, making them both groan as the high blood sank deeper into his warm body. 

Then the purple blood began thrusting, hard and slow, and Rufioh was gone, lost in the pleasure of it. The game was over, Kurloz won and they both knew it. Kurloz released his hands and they immediately flew to his shoulders, claws sinking into the meaty flesh. He earned a beautiful snarl and a hard kiss for that, all tongue and teeth with a tinge of blood. Rufioh arched into each slam of the Grand Highblood's hips, hissing as sharp nails dug into his ass to pull him in. 

Every writhe of Kurloz's bulge brought him closer and closer to oblivion. Gods, he wanted it. He _needed_ it. He snarled at his partner to give it to him. The message was apparently received. The Subjuggulator shoved him back onto the ground, throwing the warm blood's legs over his shoulders, and nearly bent him double. Rufioh all but howled his approval, and Kurloz growled with pride, thrusts becoming frantic and brutal. 

The Summoner threw his head back the best he could, screaming his pleasure to the whole damned Church. The Grand Highblood's groans and growls became nearly lost beneath his voice, and the increasingly erratic pace of his hips let him know he was close. Rufioh reached between them to grab his neglected bulge and could have punched Kurloz when he knocked his hand away. The only thing that saved his face from more damage was a cold hand wrapping around his slick, bronze bulge. And just like that he was done for, spots dancing in the blackness behind his eyes as he yelled. Warm bronze liquid splashed between them from his pulsing bulge, coating his chest and stomach and soaking his vest. 

He knew in the back of his mind he was now going to have to borrow a shirt, too, but it was all worth it when Kurloz slammed himself in one final time a familiar cold sensation erupted inside of him. The Grand Highblood threw back his head and roared as he came, filling his Kismesis and looking for all the world like a feral, primitive beast. Rufioh shuddered at the imagery alone, never growing tired of watching his Spade partner come undone. 

The Subjuggulator fell forward, hands slamming into the stone just above the length of Rufioh's horns. They stared at each other as they both panted, covered in blood, sweat, and genetic material. Only once their bulges retreated back into their bodies did they move, the purple blood falling back onto his rear and the bronze blood pushing himself into a seated position. The hall was silent for several moments aside from their haggard breaths, until Rufioh climbed to his feet, shivering when a torrent of purple liquid washed down his legs. 

He shrugged out of his vest, well aware of his Kismesis' gaze as he unwrapped the now filthy bandages that held his wings down and set them free. Kurloz loved his wings, and watched enraptured as they slowly unfolded and fanned out behind him in their full, gossamer glory. Dropping the wraps to the floor, Rufioh let him get a few good seconds of staring in before grinning. 

"Race you to the shower." The Cavalreaper spun on his heel and bolted towards the high blood's personal chambers in the back of the throne room, leaving his Kismesis in his proverbial dust. It was several seconds before Kurloz's voice rang through the room and the tell-tale pounding of bare feet chased after him.

"Nitram!" 

Cackling, Rufioh all but flew through the door, Kurloz hot on his heels. It was going to be a long day


End file.
